


Two weddings

by vivianblakesunrisebay



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, Fluff, M/M, Wedding Planning, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianblakesunrisebay/pseuds/vivianblakesunrisebay
Summary: David asks Clint and Marcy about Patrick and Rachel's wedding plans, and it sparks a very mild crisis. Then he and Patrick talk it out. Tons of fluff, basically.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 47
Kudos: 410





	Two weddings

“You know, maybe Patrick could play guitar at the ceremony!” Marcy said.

“Sure, I’d do that,” Patrick said. He was lacing up his tap shoes—or his cleats, whatever—getting ready to go to baseball practice. Marcy and Clint were visiting, and had offered to lend a hand with wedding planning. Unfortunately, they seemed to think that “lending a hand” included offering their own suggestions, instead of obediently and meticulously following David’s carefully-thought-out instructions.

The effort of rejecting all their suggestions while maintaining an air of open and interested politeness was taking its toll on David.

“So, um,” he said, addressing Patrick because that was easier. “You’re suggesting that you would stop in the middle of your vows and, like, walk over and pick up your guitar and start playing for everyone?”

“Well, not in the middle of the _vows,”_ Patrick said.

Marcy eyes were bright, like the picture David had just painted was a selling point for the idea. She said, “Patrick plays so beautifully.” Clint nodded.

“Thanks, Mom,” Patrick said. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Patrick’s eyes were twinkling, like he was enjoying this, the bastard.

David said, hanging onto his polite smile for all he was worth, “I was thinking maybe a harpist.”

“Why would we hire a musician when we have such a great musician right here?” Clint said.

“Um, _usually,_ a groom does not play at his own wedding,” David said. Except in extremely cheesy horrible weddings planned by people with bad taste. “And we also need music for the recessional, so unless you want me to walk out _by myself_ while Patrick plays the guitar, I think we need to hire a musician.” He was still hanging onto his bright smile, but it was starting to feel like a death’s-head grin.

“Okay, David,” Patrick said. He gave him a little peck on the lips. “Whatever you say. I’ve got to get to baseball practice. See you in a couple hours.”

David walked him to the door. Patrick said in a low voice, “I know you don’t love my parents’ suggestions—just try to be polite.”

“I am being polite,” David said through gritted teeth.

“Well, maybe try to look like it’s not such an effort.” Patrick gave him one last kiss and left.

David walked back to the older Brewers.

Marcy was looking wistful. “Remember when Patrick played at our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Clint?”

“Yes, he played ‘Just the Way you Are.’” Clint said. “Our song.” They exchanged an affectionate look.

David was feeling desperate. He really wanted his future in-laws to like him. And it _went without saying_ that Patrick was a great musician with an incredible voice that turned David’s insides to butter, but that wasn’t the point here. The point was that Patrick wasn’t supposed to be _performing,_ he was _getting married,_ he was getting married to David, and there were certain things that were correct at weddings, and one of the grooms picking up a guitar and singing in the middle of the ceremony, especially singing something godawful like Billy Joel, was _not_ one of them.

“But this isn’t about what we want, Marcy,” Clint said, and David sagged with relief. 

“Of course not,” Marcy said, smiling. She turned to David. “We’ll let you and Patrick decide.”

“After all, you only get married once,” Clint said. “If you do it right, that is.” He chuckled.

You could always count on Clint to make Dad jokes, David thought, feeling a rush of affection for him. That made David think of something, though. “But you’ve both been through this before,” he said. “When Patrick and Rachel were planning their wedding.”

“Oh, um, yes, that’s true,” Marcy said. 

Maybe David shouldn’t bring it up; no, make that, he _definitely_ shouldn’t bring it up. But he couldn’t help being curious, could he? And he was getting absolutely nothing out of Patrick.

As David had gotten consumed with all the little details of planning the wedding, he had started asking Patrick about some of the plans he and Rachel had made. But Patrick always said he wasn’t sure, or couldn’t remember—which was probably true. He knew Patrick hadn’t exactly been excited about that wedding. And it’s not that David was _comparing_ their wedding to the one Patrick and Rachel were going to have, he was just _wondering_. Basically, he was wondering, in a head-to-head wedding planning contest, how much he would absolutely wipe the floor with the competition.

He just wanted a few details, a few little details that showed how incorrect their wedding was going to be, that’s all. He said, “So was Rachel going crazy worrying about getting just the right flowers, or the right caterers, or music, or …” He trailed off suggestively, hoping Marcy would pick up the thread.

“Oh, no, Rachel was pretty flexible. She said as long as she was marrying Patrick she didn’t care about the details,” Marcy said.

“Marcy,” Clint said. 

David’s smile was frozen on his face. This is something he hadn’t thought of, that Rachel would win this competition by _not competing._

Marcy started blushing, red creeping up her neck; her emotions showed immediately in her skin, just like her son. “I’m sorry, David, that came out wrong. Of course you want your wedding to be beautiful. People are different in how much they care about these things.”

“It’s fine,” David said, trying not to let his own emotions show.

Marcy and Clint left not long after, Marcy apologizing once again on the way out. She said, “I didn’t mean to imply you care more about the wedding than marrying Patrick. And I know Patrick wants you to have everything you want. It will all work out!”

“Oh, please don’t worry about it. It’s forgotten!” David said, smiling broadly and speaking in his too-high, everything’s fine voice. 

It sounded fake even to him.

*

After they left, David starting thinking. And remembering. And pacing, a little.

David thought of the fit he had thrown when Patrick had ordered white folding chairs for the wedding. “The guy at the venue suggested them,” Patrick said, when David let him know that folding chairs were unacceptable.

“I gave you very specific instructions to just book the venue,” David said. “There was nothing in there about ordering chairs.”

“I thought those are just the kind of chairs you have at outdoor weddings,” Patrick said.

“Ordinary weddings, maybe,” David had said loftily, and he made Patrick call back and cancel the order.

Or there was the time that Patrick had suggested having crab cakes at the reception. David had said, “Don’t you remember what happened when we tried to serve crab cakes at your birthday party?”

“Of course. Maybe no one else ate them, but I did. I like crab cakes. And it could be a callback to that night,” Patrick said. He was smiling, thinking of that night, which was very sweet, but that was irrelevant to the current situation.

“It would be a _bad_ callback to one of the few times I made a mistake in planning an event.”

“Okay, David.”

_Okay, David._ Patrick seemed to take it in stride whenever David shot down his suggestions or reversed his decisions, but how did he really feel about it? And how did his parents feel about it? When Marcy said things like _we’ll let you and Patrick decide,_ maybe what she really meant was _we all know you never let Patrick decide anything, it’s all about what you want, isn’t it, David?_

_People are different,_ is something else Marcy had said. Yes, some people, like Rachel, were low maintenance and easy to plan a wedding with, while _other people_ were very difficult and high maintenance and insisted on having everything their way.

*

When Patrick came home from baseball practice, David rushed to meet him at the door and hug him, but Patrick held his hands up.

“Careful, I’m all sweaty and dusty,” he said. 

“I don’t care,” David said, trying to hug him anyway.

“Since when?” Patrick said, stepping back. “There’s no way I’m getting dust on your sweater. I remember what happened last time.” He leaned in and kissed David’s cheek, careful not to touch him anywhere else. “Let me go shower. I’ll be right out.”

David remembered how he had snapped at Patrick once when he’d gotten dirt on one of his Givenchy sweaters. But that was only because that particular sweater was one of his favorites, and it was very fuzzy and hard to keep clean.

_High maintenance._

A few minutes later, Patrick came out of the bathroom with wet hair and rosy skin, dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. David was still upset, but that didn’t stop him from noticing that his fiancé looked adorable and sexy.

“Let’s just elope,” David said abruptly.

“What?” Patrick said.

“All I care about is being married to you. Let’s elope,” David said.

“Where is this coming from?” Patrick came over and put his arms around David’s waist. David automatically slid his hands across Patrick’s shoulders and then wrapped his arms around his neck.

Patrick brought David’s head down to kiss him, long and slow. When he broke the kiss, David felt dazed.

“Come and sit. Let’s talk,” Patrick said.

They sat on the couch together. Patrick said, “Did my parents’ suggestions horrify you that much? We don’t have to do anything they suggest, promise.”

“No, it wasn’t that.” Now that it came down to it, David was embarrassed. But he decided he might as well say it. “Your mom told me that when you were planning the wedding with Rachel, Rachel said she didn’t care about the wedding, just about being married to you.”

“My mom said _that?”_ Patrick sounded appalled.

“It’s my fault, I asked her,” David said placatingly. 

“And why were you asking her about that?”

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about your wedding plans with Rachel!” David said. 

“But why do you care?”

“Because I wanted to make sure _our_ wedding was better.”

Patrick was giving him his _you’re-ridiculous_ look. “I’m sorry, was that even in question? Don’t tell me the great David Rose, party planner extraordinaire, was insecure about that.”

“I wasn’t insecure,” David said. “I knew mine would be better.”

“So then why did you need to know the details?”

“So I could—” David broke off. “So I could gloat, okay? I wanted to gloat.”

Patrick laughed. 

David said, “But then when your mom told me what Rachel said—well, I know it’s what you’re supposed to feel.”

“David, Rachel said that because things weren’t good between us. We were walking on eggshells with each other by then. She was worried I was going to change my mind. And, she was right—as you know.”

“I know,” David muttered.

Patrick went on, “It’s okay to care about the wedding! I care about the wedding. I’ve been letting you have ‘your way’”—he made air quotes—“because you’re good at this stuff. If it were up to me, I’d probably serve zhampagne and have a wedding cake shaped like a baseball.”

“Oh God,” David said, picturing it. “But we could do that, I’d be fine with it,” he said quickly.

“Sure you would,” Patrick said, his eyes alight.

“I would be,” David said.

“Well, I don’t want that. I want the wedding we’ve been planning.”

Patrick's phone buzzed. He took it out to read the text. Then he turned his phone to show it to David.

**Marcy:** I hope I didn’t upset David today. We love him and are so excited about this wedding! 

David felt choked up, reading it. “Your mom’s nice,” he said.

“Yes, she is.” 

David scooted down and put his head on Patrick’s chest. Patrick adjusted so he could put his arm around him. 

David said, “Well, I just want to go on the record saying I don’t care more about the wedding than I care about you.”

“Noted,” Patrick said. “But for the record, I kind of like it when you fuss.”

“When I _fuss?_” David said, trying to decide whether to be offended.

“Yeah. I like that you have strong opinions about things I didn’t even know people could have opinions about. And I like it when you tell me things like my taste in appetizers is incorrect.” David felt Patrick kiss the top if his head.

“But why?” David said, sitting up to look at Patrick. The things Patrick had just said were the reasons people gave for why he was difficult, and annoying, and high maintenance.

“I don’t know, exactly,” Patrick said. He was looking at him with the melting soft-eyed look David loved. “Because it’s you, and I love you, David Rose.”

*

Later that night, they were snuggling together in bed. David was feeling dreamy and lazy, well-fucked and well-loved. Patrick had gone the extra mile tonight. Engaged sex was the best sex. He couldn’t wait to see what married sex was going to be like.

He said, “I have another thing to say, for the record.”

“What’s that?” Patrick said, dropping little kisses along David’s cheek, up to his temple.

“I love it when you sing for me. And if you sang at our wedding _reception,_ I would love it. The night you sang for me at the open mic night was the best night of my life.”

Patrick pulled back so he could see David’s face. “The best night? Really?”

“Yes,” David said softly. He didn’t talk about that night very often; it was too precious. It was the first time he believed, like believed down to his core, that Patrick really loved him. All the time Patrick was on stage, singing to him, singing _for_ him, he had felt like he was cracking open, shedding all the hurt and the horror and the crap of his past and being born bright shining and new.

“Thank you,” Patrick said. He pulled David to him and kissed him softly. “But I think, the way this wedding is shaping up, you’ll have a new best night of your life.”

“Mm, do you think so?” David said.

“I know I’m going to,” Patrick said. He touched David’s cheek. “First, because I’m marrying the love of my life, and second, because he is an excellent wedding planner.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I would love it if Patrick sang to David at the wedding. I just had this idea and went with it.


End file.
